Page 8 of The Devil's Trials

And if hedidplan it, did he know what would happen?

When I consider that, it only begs more questions.

Is he still at the compound? What’s his next move? Is he going to continue with his mother’s plan to destroy the hunters? Something tells me no, especially after the conversation we had about how important it was to stop Lucia from doing that very thing.

That said, I feel as if I can’t trust anything I think I know anymore. And that has anger searing my skin just as fiercely as the fear wrapping its dark, thorn-filled tendrils around my heart.

I keep walking, and with each step, I home in on the anger. Because in the world of demons, anger is safer than fear. And if I’m going to survive this, I need to focus everything I have on that feeling, training as hard as I can, and pray to any higher power listening that it’s enough to save my sanity.

THREEXANDER

It takes a mere twenty-four hours for word to spread, for demons and hunters alike know what happened to the late queen of hell.

While demons feed on fear, I have half a mind to believe they could survive on gossip alone with the number of rumors surrounding my involvement and subsequent plan to take the throne.

I haven’t left the safe house since we arrived two days ago, and being cooped up is driving me mad. It’s a small bungalow with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen with a dining table, and a living room with just enough space for the black leather couch, oak coffee table, and one armchair in the corner.

I’ve been pacing for half an hour, tuning in and out of the flat screen TV mounted on the wall in front of the couch, when Blake comes through the front door into the living room. He’s carrying a takeout tray in one hand and a paper bag between his teeth as he pulls the key out of the lock and kicks the door shut, disrupting the curtains across the front window. They’ve been closed since we got here, even though there aren’t many houses around us.

Blake walks to the kitchen, sets everything on the table, then turns to me, bowing at the waist with a faint smirk. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

“Fuck off with that shit,” I grumble in a low voice, claiming the to-go cup with my Americano.

“You abuse my loyalty so flippantly,” he comments, feigning disappointment as he grabs his iced matcha and stabs a straw into the cup.

I shoot him a dark look.

“Too soon?” He cocks his head to the side.

Instead of answering, I swipe the paper bag off the counter and go to the couch. Blake follows, dropping down beside me and kicking his legs up on the coffee table.

We eat in silence for a few minutes before he glances toward me and asks, “How are you feeling?”

I swallow a mouthful that tastes like nothing. “The pain I felt from Portland back to Seattle is mostly gone, besides a dull ache in my chest. Otherwise, I’m not sure I feel much of anything. Everything is…subdued.”

“Is that intentional?”

I arch a brow at him in response.

“Are you choosing not to feel?”

I consider that. “Perhaps.”

That door hiding my emotions—could I open it with force? There’s a twinge of sensation, a mild pressure in my chest that says yes, but that begs the question,Why the hell would I want to?

Blake nods. “Why do you think that is?”

“I wasn’t aware that ‘therapist’ was in your job description,” I remark dryly, taking a drink of my Americano. “I can’t let emotions distract me right now.”

“You’re concerned they’ll cloud your judgment?”

“That was made clear when I killed our queen to save a human.”

His forehead creases. “I don’t believe you would’ve done that for just any human, mate.”

“I suppose not.” I resent the way my lungs constrict at the thought of Camille. She should be at my side, and knowing she likely left the compound and went right to the hunter organization’s headquarters with her friends makes me want to go after her.

“Not to add salt to the wound, but the royal guard contacted me. They’re pissed about us going into hiding. I’m essentially flipping them the bird by refusing to disclose where you are, but I wanted to give you a day to adjust before you answer to them.”

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